There are some things I would be as an Olympic medalist, you tell yourself. You'd chaperone your medal to kids in hospitals, and perform random feats of strength and speed for strangers who recognized you, smiling for flip-phone camera shots in terrible lighting. You'd make sure to have a funny Lochte anecdote that makes people shake their heads but also assures them that he's not a thorough twat. You'd eat the very occasional but very public plate of nachos, all by yourself, just so people would wonder how the hell you stay in such great shape. You'd be a benevolent superhero.

There are some things I would do as President, you vow in hypothetical. You'd invite sick children to the Oval Office, and grab the occasional pulled-pork sandwich or bowl of pho at a neighborhood joint that would probably hate the press scrum but that could use the cash mob. You'd take a guy who never quite got his tour card on a round of golf with you. You'd name-drop high-school students who win engineering competitions, give shout-outs to obscure blues guitarists and publicly commiserate with people when American Airlines makes a mockery of customer service. You'd cut through the bullshit.

Add this to both lists: You'd try to keep from turning into an insane robot, and you'd try to make it all look this easy.